"First ghosts, then blood on the walls, and now a petrified cat," Vincent thought grimly. "It is Halloween."
The group was gathered in Lockhart's office at his invitation. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape stood nearby, examining the stiff body of Mrs. Norris. Her owner, Argus Filch, sat slumped in a chair, weeping quietly.
"It was definitely a curse—probably the Transmogrifian Torture," Lockhart declared grandly. "I've seen it used a dozen times. So unlucky I wasn't there—I know the very countercurse that would've saved her—"
Filch's sobbing intensified with every word Lockhart spoke. Vincent's eye twitched in irritation. As much as he wanted to rearrange Lockhart's perfect smile, he resisted the urge and instead stepped away from the group, walking over to Filch. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged surprised looks as he did.
"Hey, Mr. Filch," Vincent said softly.
The caretaker looked up, eyes red and puffy. "Oh, it's you," he muttered. "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to say... Mrs. Norris was a good cat."
Filch blinked, then gave a shaky nod. "I—I know, right? Raised her from the moment she was born. Beautiful little critter..." His eyes hardened as he glanced toward Harry. "Whoever did this is going to pay."
"She isn't dead, Argus," Dumbledore said gently.
Lockhart stopped mid-rant. Filch froze.
"Not dead?" he echoed. "Then why is she—?"
"She's been petrified," Dumbledore explained calmly.
"I knew it!" Lockhart crowed. "I told you—classic symptoms. I would have handled it in an instant—"
Most of the room collectively rolled their eyes.
"We don't yet know how," Dumbledore added.
"It was him! I know it was!" Filch suddenly pointed a trembling finger at Harry. "He knows I'm a Squib! He wrote it on the wall!"
"I never touched Mrs. Norris!" Harry protested, outraged. "I don't even know what a Squib is!"
"If I may, Headmaster," Snape said, stepping forward. "Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But that raises a question: why were they there at all? Why not at the Halloween feast?"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all began talking at once, trying to explain about the Deathday Party.
Vincent stayed quiet, watching Snape closely. Despite being his apprentice, Vincent still barely understood the man outside of their work in the dungeons. And what baffled him most was Snape's deep-seated resentment toward Harry—resentment that didn't seem to have any clear cause.
"...there were hundreds of ghosts," Hermione was saying. "They can confirm we were there!"
"But why not join the feast afterwards?" Snape pressed, eyes narrowing. "Why did you go up to the corridor?"
"Because... we were tired and wanted to go to bed," Harry said.
Snape raised an eyebrow. "Without supper? I don't imagine ghosts had much in the way of food for the living."
Vincent noticed Harry's hesitation and frowned slightly. Why hadn't he mentioned the voice? Then again, maybe hearing things no one else could wasn't something people talked about openly—even in a place like Hogwarts. Vincent chose to stay quiet. He trusted Harry had his reasons.
"We'd already eaten, sir," Vincent interjected, drawing the attention of the room. "I figured there wouldn't be food at a ghost party, so I made something beforehand—just in case. By the time we left, it was so late that heading to the Great Hall didn't seem worth it."
Snape glared at Vincent who stared back. Snape was the first to break eye contact, turning to Dumbledore.
"Headmaster, what are your thoughts on this?" Snape asked icily.
"Innocent until proven guilty Severus," Dumbledore said, leaving no room for argument, "Argus, we will be able to cure her, I will have a potion that will revive Mrs Norris. It will be ready when Professor Sprout manages to cultivate the Mandrakes to full size."
"I'll make it!" Lockhart butted in, "I must have done it a hundred times, I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep —"
"Excuse me," said Snape, his voice filled with venom, "But I believe I am the Potions master here at this school."
"You may go," Dumbledore said to the four children who nodded before taking off
Vincent stopped at the door and looked back to see Dumbledore to give him a nod to which he returned.
Along the way back, Harry was asking whether he should have told them about the voices while Vincent was deep in thought.
"Chamber of Secrets," Vincent thought to himself as they entered the Gryffindor Common room. "What could possibly have gotten those teachers so rattled."
"The Chamber of Secrets... I think I remember it, but I've left my copy of Hogwarts: A History at home," Hermione muttered to herself.
"I don't think we can really do anything about it at the moment. Maybe there's a book about it in the library," Harry spoke out.
"True, I still only read a fourth of it excluding the restricted section so it might be in —?" Hermione looked at Vincent who had an amazed face, "What's the matter?"
"Nothing," Vincent said still looking at Hermione, "I'm just impressed with your ability to read."
Hermione buried her face in a nearby pillow in embarrassment.
"It's not that much, right?" her muffled voice came out
"A fourth of that library is enough to build a house, you tell me if that's a lot," Vincent said causing the girl to bury her head even further in the pillow.
She looked up giving Vincent a glare, "Your teasing me aren't you?"
"I'm just saying the truth," Vincent said smiling before being hit in the face with a pillow, causing both Harry and Ron to laugh at his expense.
"Geez, I'm heading to bed," she huffed as she stormed off before turning around, "Night Harry, Ron, Vince."
"Goodnight, Hermione."
Vincent decided to do a bit of light reading before heading to bed. He was in the midst of flipping a page a book dedicated to the Founders of Hogwarts before being interrupted by his redheaded friend.
"Vince, are you doing okay?"
Vincent looked up, momentarily puzzled by the question—until realization dawned on his face. "You mean after what happened tonight? It caught me off guard, sure, but that's about it. It's Filch who's really going through it right now."
"Yeah, but..." Ron hesitated, his voice trailing off. "When we saw the cat like that, you looked... Never mind." He waved it off and gave a small shrug. "Night, Vince. See you tomorrow."
With that, the room fell quiet again.
Vincent flipped through a few more pages of his book, but his mind had already begun to drift. Eventually, he closed it with a soft sigh.
"Alright, Nyx, time for bed," he murmured.
The tiny pixie, fast asleep beside him, stirred faintly as he gently scooped her up and set her next to Hedwig's perch. The snowy owl hooted softly, shifting to make room.
Vincent smiled, reaching out to stroke Hedwig's feathers. She leaned into his hand with a soft coo.
"Goodnight, Hedwig."
Another low hoot answered him as he climbed into bed. Thoughts of the chilling message on the wall crept into his mind as sleep as he closed his eyes, the image of the still cat remained clear in his mind as he drifted to sleep.
...
"Your guard's weak here."
"You're off-balance again."
"You're completely wide open!"
Neville lay flat on the dirt, panting hard as Vincent approached with a small grin.
"You did good today," Vincent said, extending a hand.
Neville reached up, gripping it tightly as Vincent helped him to his feet. "Thanks!"
They both made their way to the steps just outside the castle and sat down, watching the first light of morning creep across the grounds. Neville sipped from the Comfort Water Vincent had given him. Whatever exhaustion or frustration he'd felt during training melted away with every sip of the blissfully warm drink.
"You finish your History of Magic homework, Neville?" Vincent asked casually.
Neville choked mid-sip, eyes wide. "Crap. I forgot it was due today."
Vincent chuckled. Another thing he'd learned about Neville—he was brave, determined, and steadily improving... but he forgot things. A lot.
It had been a few days since the incident with Mrs. Norris, but things still hadn't settled down. Tension hung in the air, and whispers about the Chamber of Secrets echoed through the halls more frequently than ever.
Hermione, in particular, had thrown herself into research. According to the girls in the dorm, she had been staying up far too late reading every book she could get her hands on about the Chamber.
Vincent, noticing the growing bags under her eyes, quietly resolved to brew more sleep potions—just in case this became a regular occurrence.
"Neville, it's great that you want to build your strength," Vincent said, "but that doesn't mean you can start neglecting your studies."
He'd often caught Neville shadowboxing before bed. While the dedication was admirable, Vincent didn't want the guy failing classes because of it.
"Don't worry, I'll help you through it," Vincent sighed, already resigned.
"Thank you, Vincent!" Neville said, suddenly grabbing his hands.
"I don't swing that way, you dolt," Vincent grumbled, whacking him lightly on the head.
Neville just laughed and returned to sipping his drink.
"Hello, Vince," came a soft voice behind them.
Vincent turned to see Luna approaching, her usual dreamy expression in place. "Hey, Luna," he said, patting the step beside him. "Come sit."
"Thanks," she replied, settling down and accepting a drink from Vincent. She looked to Neville, tilting her head slightly. "And who's your friend?"
"Neville—Neville Longbottom!" he stammered, thrusting his hand out.
Vincent nearly snorted. Another thing he'd learned about Neville: talking to girls wasn't his strong suit.
"Hello, Neville. I'm Luna Lovegood," she said airily, shaking his hand. "Have you ever heard of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack?"
"Um... what?" Neville blinked and glanced at Vincent in confusion.
"Don't worry," Vincent chuckled. "She might come off as a bit odd—" Luna pouted at him, "—but get to know her, and you'll realize she's one of the best people you'll ever meet."
"Huh." Neville glanced back at Luna whom had started playing around with Nyx.
"So, mind telling me what a Snortback is?" Neville asked the girl who instantly started talking.
"It's Snorkback, not Snortback!" she said.
The three of them engaged in a conversation until they heard thunder which indicated the time for breakfast. They all parted ways at the Great Hall.
"She's really interesting, isn't she?" Vincent said as they made their way to their seats.
"Yeah, she is," Neville said, "I never met a person quite like her before."
"Oi, Vince, over here!" Hermione called waving her hand at Vincent who waved back.
"K, see you later Neville," Vincent said as he sat down
"See you," Neville sat with another student called Dean Thomas at another end of the table.
"So, today's History, right?" Hermione said, "I'm going to try asking Professor Binn to see how much he knows of the Chamber of Secrets, nothing I look at in the library seems to hold any information."
"Well, if anyone should know of it, then it's the History teacher," Vincent said as he took a bite out of some toast before talking to Ron, "How's Ginny?"
"She's still extremely shaken up after hearing of Mrs. Norris," Ron said from the side as he ate, "Don't know why, she's hardly known the cat."
Ever since Halloween, Ginny has been acting rather disturbed by the incident causing Vincent to worry somewhat. Throughout his time in Hogwarts, Vincent hadn't seen much of her and it bothered him a lot for some reason.
Later in the afternoon, they all found themselves in the library. Harry came in later as he was held back by Snape to scrape tubeworms off the desk.
"I'm still three inches short," Ron said frustrated, "Hermione's done four to five feet and her writing's small!"
"Well, at least Neville won't be alone," Vincent thought as he watched Ron write as large as possible, hoping to fill in the last little bit needed in doing so.
"Still can't find it," Hermione said as she came out from behind a bookshelf, "All the copies of "Hogwarts: A History have been taken out."
"Hermione lend me your composition," Ron said sounding slightly desperate as he checked the time.
"No."
"Vincent maybe you can—"
"Three galleons."
"Harry—"
"You're on your own mate." Harry said as the bell rang indicating the start of the new lesson.
Ron looked at his friends in horror as they left him behind.
"Traitors, you guys are traitors!" he called out in disbelief.
...
"Professor, what is the Chamber of Secrets?" Hermione asked.
Professor Binn's, the ghost and History teacher looked at the class who had probably, for the first time, paid attention to the what he was talking about.
"I deal with facts not myths Miss—?
"Granger," Hermione finished, "but don't legends have a basis in fact?"
Professor Binn just sighed as he faced the class, "Fine, but after that, we're back to studying."
"As you all know, Hogwarts was founded by four of the greatest wizards in history. Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. They each represented an aspect that they wanted to bring out in their students, hence the four houses."
"However, Salazar Slytherin had a falling out with the four founders. He felt that only those that possess the pure blood of wizards could be accepted into the school. That those Half-bloods and Muggle-Borns were unworthy to learn magic."
"The other founders, especially Gryffindor, disagreed. Slytherin left, but there were rumors of him building a secret chamber. It was foretold that only the heir of Slytherin himself could open the chambers and release the horror within to purge all those he considered unworthy to learn magic. That is the legend of The Chamber of Secrets."
Professor Binn looked at the uneasy class before waving his hand, "For decades Headmasters have searched for this so-called hidden chamber only to come up with nothing. So, it's safe to assume that it was just a legend—"
"Sir," Vincent asked putting his hand up, "whatever happened to Slytherin?"
"No one knows," Professor Binn said, "He disappeared shortly after the event, history has not yet uncovered Slytherins fate."
Vincent sat there in thought as Professor Binn continued with his lesson.
...
"I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony, but I didn't realize he was the one who started all that pure-blood nonsense," Ron ranted as they walked out of class. "I wouldn't be in his house if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried putting me in Slytherin, I'd have taken the train straight back home."
Vincent, walking alongside them, blinked at the comment. "Come to think of it," he thought, "I've never been officially sorted into a house at all."
He shook the thought off when he noticed Harry looking more tense than usual.
"You alright, Harry?" Vincent asked, raising an eyebrow.
Harry flinched slightly, then forced a small smile. "Oh—yeah. It's nothing," he said, a little too quickly.
"Definitely something," he thought, but kept it to himself.
"Hey Harry, have you heard what people have been calling you—?" They spotted Collin try in vain to reach Harry through the crowd, the last part of his sentence was muffled by the chattering in the hall. He soon gave up and waved goodbye before heading to his lesson.
"What have people been calling you?" Hermione asked Harry who shrugged.
"That I'm the heir of Slytherin, I'd expect," Harry said, "I guess that's why Justin Flinch ran away from me earlier."
"People here'll believe anything," said Ron with disgust, "do you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?"
"I'm still rather new to the wizarding world so if you told me there was talking animals then I'd believe you," Vincent saw the three of them exchanging glances making his eyes widen, "there's really talking animals?!"
Before any of them could answer they found themselves at where Mrs. Norris was petrified. The wall was still marked with the words despite all of Filch's attempts to get rid of it.
"Wouldn't hurt to look around right?" Harry said as he looked along the ground, "there's scorch marks here and there!"
"Hey guys look at this!" Hermione called out.
A bunch of spiders were scurrying to get outside the small crack in the window in a straight line.
"Spiders don't usually act like this right?" Vincent asked flicking a spider to the side only for it to rejoin the line
"I don't think so," Harry said, "do they Ron? Ron?"
Ron was standing way back looking as if he might bolt. It was at this point that Vincent decided to flick the spider in Ron's direction. Ron watched horrified as the spider sailed through the air and landed right on his hair.
There was a moment pause before Ron started running around screaming.
"Get it off! Get it off!" He pleaded.
Hermione was giggling to herself at the amusing sight while Harry just smiled amused. Vincent gave a wry smile before helping Ron.
"Sorry Ron," Vincent said knocking the spider away which rejoined the line, "I didn't know you were scared of spiders."
"Well you would be if your brother turned your teddy bear into one," he yelled at Vincent, "imagine you're a child holding your cuddly little toy and then baam! It turns into something with too many legs and..."
Ron was too traumatized to go on. Hermione just turned her head to the side to avoid looking directly at Ron as she tried hard not to laugh.
"The water on the floor's all cleaned up," Vincent noted, "if I remember correctly, it came from this door."
Vincent was about to walk through the door when he stopped, "Uh, this is the women's bathroom."
"Oh, don't worry," Hermione said walking past, totally ignoring the out of order sign, "this is Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, no one ever goes in here."
"Well, this is the most depressing bathroom I've ever been in," Vincent said as he walked in.
Harry and Ron nodded their heads in agreement. The bathroom had cracked sinks under one broken window. The few candles giving light were extremely dim and the bathroom stalls were all scratched with one having it's door hanging on its hinges.
"Hey Myrtle," Hermione said to the end stall, "how are you?"
Myrtle was by far, one of the most depressing people Vincent had ever seen. She had pimples and extremely thick glasses. Vincent had the amusing thought that she looked like Harry, if he was a girl and was extremely depressed.
Harry felt some extreme chills despite it not being that cold.
"What was that feeling?" He thought scratching his head, "did someone curse me?"
"This is a girls bathroom," Myrtle said, "They're not girls, why are they here?
"No," Hermione agreed, "I just wanted to show them how er – nice it is in here."
"A place fit for a king," Vincent thought sarcastically, then winced as one of the bathroom stalls door fell down with a thump, "wow, what timing."
"Umm," Hermione didn't know what to say, the timing couldn't be any worse as Myrtle raised an eyebrow at her.
"Ask her if she saw anything," Harry whispered to Hermione
"What are you whispering?" said Myrtle, staring at him.
"Nothing," said Harry quickly. "We wanted to ask–"
"I wish people would stop talking behind my back!" said Myrtle, in a voice choked with tears. "I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead–"
"Myrtle, no one wants to upset you," said Hermione. "Harry only–"
"No one wants to upset me! That's a good one!" howled Myrtle. "My life was nothing but misery at this place and now people come along ruining my death!"
"Vincent, can't you do anything?" Ron whispered making Vincent look around in confusion.
"What, me?" Vincent asked
"Yes, use your looks to your advantage—" Vincent just blankly landed a fist on Ron's head, "I deserved that."
"Myrtle," Vincent asked, "had you seen anything strange on Halloween?"
"No," Myrtle sniffed, "I wasn't paying attention, Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to kill myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I'm – that I'm–"
Vincent smacked Ron who looked like he was going to say something stupid. He looked at Vincent with a face that asked why.
"Well, we'll be off now," Vincent said, "it was interesting talking to you."
"Goodbye," Myrtle waved as the four of them walked out of the bathroom. "Come back soon handsome."
Vincent almost fell over and glared at Harry and Ron who were trying their hardest not to laugh.
"I liked the glasses." Harry's smile melted off his face as it turned to a look of pure horror.
It was Vincent's turn to grin as he patted the pale boy's back, "Good luck."
"Shut up Vince," Harry mumbled making the group laugh.
"RON!"
Percy Weasley had stopped dead at the head of the stairs, prefect badge agleam, an expression of complete shock on his face.
"That's a girls bathroom!" he gasped. "What were you -?"
"Just having a look around," Ron shrugged. "Clues, you know–"
Percy swelled up to a point where Vincent thought that he could explode.
"Get–away–from–there -" Perry said, striding toward them and starting to bustle them along, flapping his arms. "Don't you care what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner–"
"Why shouldn't we be here?" said Ron hotly, stopping short and glaring at Percy. "Listen, we never laid a finger on that cat!"
"That's what I told Ginny," Percy said fiercely, "but she still seems to think you're going to be expelled, I've never seen her so upset, crying her eyes out—"
There it was again, Ginny. Every time she was mentioned, Vincent couldn't help but feel the strangest of feelings that there was something more to her. He just didn't know what yet.
"Five points from Gryffindor!" Percy said tersely, snapping Vincent out of his thoughts, "I hope it teaches you a lesson! No more detective work, or I'll write to Mum!"
...
That night, Vincent stood in Snape's office, hunched over a simmering cauldron. Sweat beaded on his brow as he carefully combined Exploding Fluid with his Lightning Tempering Potion—an original blend, highly volatile and incredibly unwise. It was his first time fusing two unstable concoctions, and one wrong move could result in a crater where the office used to be.
Measured pinches of powdered cyclops skin went in next, meant to tame the mixture's temperamental nature. Beside him, Nyx hovered with laser focus, keeping the flame precisely controlled—too hot and it would combust, too cold and it would destabilize.
The potion hissed, crackled, and flashed violently… before finally settling into a glowing, electric gold.
"Finally done," Vincent muttered, collapsing into the nearest chair, utterly drained.
If anyone had asked why he'd risked making something this dangerous, Vincent would've shrugged and said:
"I just wanted to see what would happen."
Truly, the kind of noble curiosity that has built empires, leveled cities, and occasionally set eyebrows on fire.
"Vincent Wong, here again in my office without permission, what should I do—?!"
Snape's usually calm face turned alarmed as he looked at what Vincent had finished making.
"What, in the bloody blazes are you doing boy?!" Snape thundered causing Vincent to jump slightly.
"Oh, hey Professor," Vincent said tiredly, "I made a new potion."
"Like hell you made one!" Snape grumbled, "Why in Merlin's name, would you add Exploding Fluid with a potion that I classified as destructive?!"
"To make it even more destructive?" Snape smacked Vincent's head with a book.
"Evanesco," Snape said pointing his wand at the pot only for nothing to happen, "Strange, the liquid should have vanished."
"So, this potion is a failure?" Vincent asked deflated, Snape seemed to have the ability to determine whether or not a potion is drinkable or not with a glance or smell of the potion. This was not the first time he got rid of one of Vincent's creations.
"It very well is," Snape said still looking confused as to why his spell wasn't working, "Throw it outside."
Students pointed and stared as Vincent carried the cauldron outside Hogwarts. He ignored the looks as he talked to Nyx.
"He sure is unforgiving," Vincent complained, "I mean, it's like a half a kilometer walk getting outside!"
Nyx just nodded as it sat in Vincent's pocket.
Ten minutes later, Vincent found himself tipping the entire contents out onto the field. He was about to head back before seeing the entire area glowing a bright yellow.
"What the," Vincent thought as he studied it, "this is new. The light seems to be getting brighter and is that heat I'm feeling —?!"
Vincent's eyes soon widened incredibly as he realized where this was headed. He bolted towards the school gates as fast as he could leaving the bright yellow ground to grow slightly larger, brighter and hot.
...
"Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?" said Hermione skeptically.
The three of them were sitting in the Common Room after separating from Vincent. They were discussing whether or not Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin or not.
"Look at his family," said Harry, closing his books, too. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough."
"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" said Ron. "Handing it down, father to son ..."
"Wait, why is everyone looking at the window?" Harry said taking notice that everyone in the Common Room was standing at the window.
The three of them managed to find spots only for their eyes to widen as they saw a huge glowing patch of land.
...
"That damn Potter, the Heir of Slytherin, what a joke," Malfoy thought as he finished his homework by the fireplace.
He was about to call it a night when the whole dormitory shook. He stood up alarmed as did every other Slytherin in the room and accidentally knocked his homework into the fire.
"NOOOOO!" Malfoy yelled as he tried to recover what remained of the parchment, "whoever caused this shall pay with his life!"
...
"Ah, Cornelius," Dumbledore mumbled to himself in his office as he read a letter, "I won't give Hagrid up willingly."
He turned to look at his phoenix Fawkes who was perched on his desk. He smiled as he was about to pat it before an earth-shattering sound came, shaking all the live paintings in his office causing the people in them to run around in panic.
"What on earth is going on?" he though alarmed when McGonagall walked in with a pale face.
"Dumbledore, you should see this."
...
The entire school was thrown into chaos as students and staff alike rushed toward the front gates. Harry, Hermione, and Ron pushed through the crowd, only to freeze in stunned silence at the devastating scene before them.
An enormous crater gaped in the earth, stretching nearly half a kilometer wide and plunging about nine meters deep. The jagged edges glowed with a molten red hue, and wisps of smoke curled upward from the still-smoldering wreckage within—an unmistakable mark of raw, unleashed power."Harry! Hermione! Ron!" Vincent and Nyx hurried up, looking a bit sheepish.
"Vincent, do you think this has anything to do with the monster?" Hermione asked, her voice quiet but tense.
Vincent blinked, caught off guard. "...Huh?"
"If the monster is strong enough to cause this..." Ron's voice dropped, "what chance do we have?"
"Guys, I—" Vincent tried to explain, but Harry interrupted.
"Vincent, the monster's targeting Muggle-borns. I'm worried about you."
"No, wait, I'm trying to say—" Vincent started again, but Neville cut in, looking concerned.
"Vincent, what happened?"
Before Vincent could answer, Dumbledore appeared at a distance, followed by the teachers, including Snape, their expressions unreadable but serious.
The teachers reached the edge of the crater and looked around seriously. Lockhart, for once just looked extremely pale and didn't sprout any nonsense for once in his life. The rest of the teachers were discussing whether it was indeed the monster in the Chamber of Secrets or not. The only people that didn't partake in the discussion were Dumbledore and Snape, both of which had discovered an empty cauldron, half disintegrated and tossed to the side.
The two exchanged sharp glances before Snape's gaze swept across the crowd, finally locking onto one particular Muggle boy.
"VINCENT WONG!!" he thundered, his voice echoing across the grounds and instantly silencing the entire school.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at Vincent in stunned disbelief, along with every other student. Vincent felt a little bit wronged here. He wasn't the one who decided to toss it out after all.
"Will Vincent Wong please come with me?" Dumbledore's calm but commanding voice rang out.
Vincent let out a resigned sigh and trudged forward to face a furious Snape and Dumbledore who had a strange look on his face as he stared at the boy.
...
Dumbledore escorted Vincent into his office so that they could talk privately. He told Vincent to stay put while Dumbledore tried to reassure the students of Hogwarts, leaving Vincent all alone.
"Hello little guy," Vincent greeted the small phoenix, "how are you doing?"
Fawkes, who was annoyed at the commotion earlier, calmed down somewhat when Vincent started patting it. The little phoenix snuggled into his palm feeling that it was extremely comfortable.
"Hm, is his the Sorting Hat?" Vincent thought as he approached an old worn out wizard's hat, "well, wouldn't hurt to try it on right?"
Vincent sat down before putting the hat on.
"Hm, a muggle? Interesting, interesting. What brings you here?" A voice echoed into his head.
"Oh, so you do talk?" Vincent asked, "I just wanted to see what house I would have been in if I was properly sorted."
"Difficult," the Sorting Hat murmured. "In all my years, I've never had to sort a Muggle before—and what a peculiar one you are. Not exactly a light past, I'd say."
Vincent frowned as he felt the hat probe his mind but made no move to remove it. There were things he'd rather keep private if he could, but if he had to be completely honest...
...he didn't much care if someone read his thoughts or memories at all.
"Don't worry, young man, I won't share a word without your permission—you have my word," the hat reassured him, earning a nod of gratitude. "Now, let's see... You have a brilliant mind, perfect for Ravenclaw. A pure heart, a rarity, worthy of Hufflepuff. But beneath it all, there's a well of courage that would make Gryffindor proud. It's tricky—if you were a wizard, Slytherin would be a strong contender. Your ambition surpasses many, and what an ambition it is."
"So, which house would I have been in?" Vincent asked.
"...I think you already know it yourself."
Vincent remained silent for a time, "Thank you."
"It was my pleasure." Vincent took off the hat and placed it back where it came from, just in time for Dumbledore to come back inside the office.
"I've just spoken with the teachers and confirmed that all students and staff are accounted for. Thankfully, there were no casualties," Dumbledore explained to a now-relieved Vincent, who sat across from him at the desk. "Would you care to explain what happened, Vincent?"
Vincent launched into an explanation. If Dumbledore wasn't angry, then things were probably fine. As it turned out, the headmaster wasn't upset about the damage to the school grounds at all—after all, it could easily be repaired with magic. What truly concerned him was how this happened and whether or not it would happen again.
"Vincent, I shouldn't have to tell you what would happen if your potions got into the wrong hands," Dumbledore said earning a nod from Vincent.
"Hermione also said the same thing," Vincent said earning a smile from Dumbledore.
"Miss Granger is indeed outstanding," Dumbledore said earning a smile and nod from Vincent, "I'll be completely honest with you Vincent, you creating potions within the castle is extraordinarily dangerous. In the past month since you've been here, you have had nine cases of explosions, one incident of stinking up the dungeons for an entire week, and that one incident with Professor Lockhart while creating potions. Snape has kept record."
Vincent chuckled nervously. The explosions were because the potions went haywire, the stink was a failed potion involving the dung of magical creatures, and Lockhart, well, that was his fault.
"I'm not getting expelled, right?" Vincent asked, a hint of worry in his voice.
Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling. "Of course not. Professor Snape has already informed me that he had some responsibility in the matter, so the blame isn't entirely on you. But you will face some consequences—which I'll leave for Severus to decide. That said, I do believe your future experiments should be conducted somewhere a bit safer... for everyone involved. I'll have a small shack built for you outside the castle for that purpose."
"A shack?" Vincent blinked, taken aback. "Isn't that a little excessive?"
"Think of it as an internship," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "A perk of being Professor Snape's apprentice. There aren't many aspiring Potion Masters at Hogwarts, after all. Of course, you'll be expected to submit regular reports and check in with him about your progress."
Dumbledore clasped his hands together. "Now then, since it will be your shack, let's discuss the design, shall we?"
Vincent walked out ten minutes later to come face to face with Snape, who gave an icy glare at him before walking away. Before he got too far, he turned back.
"I will not be providing you my personal ingredients anymore," Vincent's heart sank before Snape's next comment, "give me the money and I will find what you need. Also call me when you decide to make a new potion. We don't want you killing yourself."
Vincent stared at Snape's retreating back before bowing, "Thank you Professor!"
"Little runt," Snape thought to himself.
...
The moment Vincent stepped into the Common Room, the chatter died instantly. Then the room erupted into cheers as Fred and George hoisted him up.
"Blimey, that was wicked!" Fred exclaimed.
"Absolutely stunning," George added, "you're an inspiration to us all!"
"Inspiration? How exactly?" Vincent asked, but his question was drowned out as they paraded him around like a trophy.
"Let's hear it for the Mad Scientist!" someone shouted, sparking a chant that filled the room. Black lines crept across Vincent's forehead.
"Mad?" he thought. "You're all mad!"
Later, Vincent collapsed into bed, utterly exhausted. There had been no time to catch up with friends—just endless rounds of being celebrated. It reminded him too much of his very first day at Hogwarts.
Reluctantly, Vincent accepted his new nickname: the Mad Scientist. A title that will continue to stick to him for the rest of his life.